Wounded

Asleep on the bed your new arms and legs placed neatly on the chair by your side. I see your eyes moving rapidly testifying to the horrors that are still alive in your head. How can I tell you that all that I need came back to me? I had to find you. Search the hospitals and berate the secrecy that masquerades as comradeship. That thing that soldiers do. Why did they hide you from me? How can I tell you that all that I need came back to me? Or, is it that you were hiding? Your wish not to be found? Did you think I would not keep the promises we made each other? I have you now; you are found and loved as ever you were. How can I tell you that all that I need came back to me? I cannot imagine your pain but it shows clearly on your face I see the anguish; you had plans; dreams of children yet to be. What they took from you does not make you less than a man. How can I tell you that all that I need came back to me?